Back from the Brink
When I dissected my first chapter, over ten years ago, I had said, "There are no unimportant chapters." And I still believe that this is true. In this chapter, there is almost no action: it's another chapter of resting and regrouping and relating tales. But we also know that Donaldson wants to play fair with his characters, he wants their actions to arise authentically from their feelings. In a chapter such as this, the characters will tell us how they feel, and thereby lay the groundwork for the actions that will follow. It's worthwhile, then, to attend to their feelings.
And if your a fan of the Haruchai ... well, what can I say?
- - - - -
Covenant is here. He arrived from a burst of argent, for he had seen the Worm, and then crossed the lower Land in leap after wild magical leap, to be with the ones he loved.
Branl is here. He had rended his Humbled brother less than a day ago, but now he is here on Rallyn, the Ranyhyn who guided them to Jeremiah's fane.
But Linden was gone.
Covenant has seen the exhaustion of the Giants, the burns on Stave, the freedom of Jeremiah, the line of Elohim entering the malachite structure. They had accomplished so much. But Linden was gone.
Covenant had no one to confess his crimes to. He feels bereft, cheated. He needs Linden deeply.
The newcomers had many questions; those that met them had many as well. But Covenant wanted one thing more than any other.
Soon the tales of deeds flow. Are we not Giants? Covenant learns that Linden had gone into the past in order to find the forbidding that the Arch of Time required. And Covenant blames himself.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:It was all too much. As if he were being ripped open, Covenant released a cry that seemed to come from the marrow of his bones.
“What happened to Linden?”
Then he stood wavering as if he could not take another step without the woman whom he had loved for all of the Earth’s ages.
One again, we hear hints that Covenant had been manipulating Linden, steering her towards resolutions that the Dead should not have even mentioned. So of course he blames himself. Just as with Elena, he had asked for something without knowing how it would be answered, and so was responsible for the outcome.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:Covenant groaned aloud. Linden’s absence was his doing. He had pushed her toward a risk so extreme that merely hearing it described made his pulse falter in his veins. He had been pushing her ever since she had returned to the Land, even though every stricture of Law and Time had screamed against such intervention. If she failed, the fault would be his.
For Covenant has been like the Dead, like Foul, like the Creator. He has given possibilities to those whom he trusted, and then relied on what they were capable of to find the right answer. Time and again, he had let Linden find a way. And she found the ways.
While past events are shared, we learn that Jeremiah is also forlorn. He has learned that he is ripe for possession, because Anele's gift both gives and takes. And he, too, feels bereft, cheated. Because Linden was gone.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:But what else could he have done? He could not have acted differently without ceasing to be who he was.
The Giants were exhausted. And Cabledarm was badly injured. Only the love of tales has kept them upright at this point. They, too, needed Linden.
Stave was so deeply injured that he had gone into a self-induced healing slumber.
It is a fine thing to learn more of the Haruchai. Jast as it is to discover that there is still more to learn.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:Branl shrugged to indicate Stave. “This state is not unknown among the Haruchai. More commonly, we have recourse to it when we are snared by storms among the high peaks of our homeland. When both passage and shelter cannot be attained, we withdraw as Stave has done to preserve the essence of our lives. Thus we endure the gales, emerging when they are spent. Upon occasion, however, we withdraw similarly to heal otherwise mortal wounds, or mayhap to weather such shocks and virulence as Stave has received. When he has restored himself, he will stand among us once more.”
And there is also a mystery yet in them.
When everyone is filled in on the basics of where the others had been and what they had done, they enter the stone edifice to ... sleep. Finally: sleep. Covenant is astounded by what they had accomplished.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:“Wait a minute,” he objected. “There has to be more to it than that. Stave has touched Kastenessen before, and he wasn’t hurt like this. Something is different now.”
“It is, ur-Lord,” admitted Branl. But he did not elaborate.
Perhaps ordinary men cannot achieve what they Giants and Haruchai can. But they can be inspired to be more than they feel they can only be.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:How was it possible for any ordinary man — or woman — or boy — to live up to the example set by the Land’s other defenders, the natural inhabitants of this world?
As the Giants drift off one by one, Covenant remarks on all the ways that Linden's fate had been "writ on water". And Rime Coldspray remarks on unforeseen outcomes.In [i]Epic Fantasy in the Modern World[/i], Stephen R Donaldson wrote:I took one real, modern human being, Thomas Covenant, and surrounded him with epic characters: the Giants, the Bloodguard, Lord Mhoram, the Ranyhyn, the jheherrin: characters or images which don't in any way pertain to our real experience of life, but which do pertain to the part of us which dreams, the part of us which imagines, the part of us which aspires. And in Covenant's case those characters or images do seduce him - away from cynicism and bitterness and hatred; toward love, friendship, and loyalty, toward the willingness to risk himself for things larger than he is. If it is the responsibility of every human being to create the meaning of his/her life, then it is Covenant's capacity to respond to fantasy which leads him to create a meaning which is redemptive rather than ruinous.
One step enables another. There are no real boons that arrive "out of the blue", meeting a need with no apparent cause for doing so. Everything that happens, happens because earlier deeds have made it possible. Everything is earned. Life is ever thus.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:“It indeed appears that many unforeseen outcomes were enabled by Linden Giantfriend’s last effort among the caverns. But the same may be said of any deed. If she had not retrieved the Staff of Law. If she had not accompanied your false son and her possessed boy into the Land’s past. If she had not dared all things to create a place for you among the living. Life is ever thus. One step enables another. For that reason, auguries are an ill guide. They tread perilously upon the borders of unearned knowledge.
And Covenant remarks on his resolve to not be healed.
Every strength is a weakness that has found it's proper use. Covenant has accepted his leprosy as part of himself. Now he cannot be himself without it. It makes him whole.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:“I don’t know how to explain it. Leprosy protects me somehow.” If Lena had not given him hurtloam when he first came to the Land, he would not have been able to rape her. “Sure, it costs me a lot. But it’s also a kind of strength. It makes some things possible that I couldn’t do without it.”
Finally, all sleep.
Later, Covenant awakens, to meet Stave, who has emerged from his healing slumber.
What can I say about what happens next? It is nothing less than The Redemption of the Haruchai. Mysteries are resolved. Courses of history are altered. And the Haruchai learn to love.
You judge by your hearts. Stave has learned that the Haruchai's quest for worth has been in vain, for they had been on the wrong path ever since the Vizard. They tried and tried to find self-worth in deeds and valor. But the better answer, the right answer, was to find self-worth in what you cared about.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:Without preamble, as if he were resuming a conversation, Stave said, “I did not part willingly from the Chosen.”
His manner rather than his tone suggested that he wanted to be understood.
“I know,” Covenant answered quietly. “But you let yourself be persuaded anyway. She asked, and you agreed.”
“I did,” the former Master admitted. “I have found that I am no longer able to refuse her.”
Covenant’s mouth twisted. “I know the feeling.”
Stave flexed the fingers of his right hand, testing them for residual damage. “Haruchai do not indulge in regret. Yet I am”—he appeared to search for a word—“unsettled. If she does not return, Timewarden, I will be unable to quench my sense of loss, or my remorse that I did not stand at her side.”
Now Covenant winced. “I know that feeling, too.” He had not simply turned away from Linden. He had told her not to touch him. More harshly than he intended, he said, “But sometimes things like that have to be done anyway.”
Stave nodded. “Necessity demands. It does not countenance denial.” Then, unexpectedly, he looked away, as if he rather than Covenant had cause to feel shame. “Thus I am compelled to inquire of myself what purpose is served by regret—or indeed by grief.”
Without pausing to consider his reply, Covenant countered, “How else do we know we’re alive?”
“By our deeds,” Stave answered. “By striving and service. By—”
Abruptly he froze. His gaze sprang back to Covenant’s. Nothing else moved.
After a moment, he released a long breath. “Ah.” His regard did not waver, but his rigidity eased. “Now I begin to grasp how it transpires that you and the Chosen have failed to comprehend the Masters—and how the Masters have been misled in their apprehension of you. You and the Chosen—those of your world—The Chosen-son. Hile Troy. You judge by your hearts. It is by grief and regret that you know yourselves, rather than by deeds and effort and service.”
In his turn, Covenant nodded. “Well, yes.” More than once, he had tried to explain himself to the Haruchai; but somehow he had failed to grasp the question implicit in their notions of service. “Grief and regret. What else is there? Those are just other names for love. You can’t feel bad about losing something if you don’t love it first. And if you don’t love, why else would you bother to do anything at all?”
Of course, love was not so simple. He knew that as well as anyone; perhaps better than most. It spawned complications faster than it clarified them. It could be misguided or selfish. It could close its eyes. It could curdle until it became hate. And it implied rejection. Stepping in one direction required moving away from another. But at its core—
At its core, love was the only answer that made sense to him.
There is hope in contradiction.
From where Branl stood, the krill left Stave’s features in shadow. Covenant could barely discern the outlines of the former Master’s mien. Only Stave’s eye pierced the dusk.
Impassive as any Haruchai, he said, “It is a terrible burden, Timewarden.”
Covenant shrugged. “Look at Branl. Look at the Masters. Look at yourself.” Briefly his old rage for the abused of the world rose up in him. “Hellfire, Stave! Look at the Elohim.” Then he subsided. Almost whispering, he asked, “Is what you see any less terrible?”
“It is not,” Stave replied as if he were sure. “It is more so.”
A moment later, something that may have been a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Were I inclined to the homage of mutilation—which I am not—I would now claim a place among the Humbled. Though they have aspired to emulation, they have not grasped the full import of their desires.
“Until now,” he added in Branl’s direction, acknowledging what Branl had done and endured.
Branl lifted a shoulder slightly. “Should the world endure,” he promised, “and the Masters with it, I will undertake to instruct our people.”
Finally Covenant bowed his head. The Humbled had made it surprisingly easy to forgive the manner of Clyme’s death.
At its core, love was the only answer that made sense. As Covenant takes on more and more of the mantle of Creator, isn't it a relief that love would be his foremost guide?
It is a terrible burden. Love is a terrible burden, that gives and takes and sets you free and ties you down. To give yourself to love is to give up a bit of self-determination.
They have not grasped the full import of their desires. The Humbled had tried to emulate Covenant. Had they fully emulated him, they would have discovered this answer long ago.
I will undertake to instruct our people. Branl will spread the word among the Haruchai. They will change. The last remaining Humbled has said that they must.
Stave finds the answer. But Covenant shows the way. The snide fool who teased Bannor about his dedication to service is far, far gone. Covenant has grown to admire the Haruchai, and then respect them, and then love them 'warts and all'. How fitting that he is now able to give so much back to them.
Never mind living up to the example of the Haruchai. The Haruchai will now try to live up to the example of Covenant.
Later, everyone wakes up. And it is time for Covenant and the Giants to deal with something that had been put off for too long: an expression of grief for Longwrath. The Giants need caamora.
To everyone's surprise, Branl asks for Longwrath's flamberge.
The Haruchai have already begun to "reinterpret their notions of service". They are changing. The desire to meet the dangers of the world without the incondign help of weapons has been replaced by a recognition that the "last crisis" will brook no vain pride. They will not judge themselves by deeds and effort. They will not be content to let the Land be destroyed so long as they demonstrate their acceptance of consequences. They will accept help and fight. Because they will find their worth fighting for a Land that they love.In [i]The Last Dark[/i] was wrote:“The Haruchai have ever eschewed weaponry. Nevertheless weapons we must have. If our people do not elect to reinterpret their service, they will render their lives effectless in the last crisis. Fists and feet suffice to oppose Cavewights, but they will not harm Sandgorgons or hinder skurj.”
There is no wood around. Wild magic and the krill will have to suffice for Longwrath's caamora. And as soon as Covenant plunges the puissance of the blade into the fallen Giant's chest, Linden and another ride out of the brilliant light.
Right out of the light!
